


Muffet, Spymistress

by C0mpr3h3n51b13



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dancing, Family, Fluff, Gen, Hostage Situations, Music, Pacifist Route, Spiders, Spying, Violence, War, Younger Frisk, surface - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10101146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C0mpr3h3n51b13/pseuds/C0mpr3h3n51b13
Summary: Frisk has freed the monsters from their underground prison, but the humans are afraid. Tensions flare, and a second interspecies war begins. Enter Muffet. Using her spiders as spies, she is able to keep the war in the monster's favor. However, when she has to look after Frisk in the process, things become much harder.





	1. Prologue

Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: humans and monsters. One day, war broke out between the two races. After a long battle, the humans were victorious. They sealed the monsters underground with a magic spell.

 

Many years later, the Angel came to the underground. They escaped on their own, but making use of their immense DETERMINATION, travelled back in time to save their friends. However, they failed over and over again. In a moment of extreme frustration, the Angel struck out and began to slaughter the ones they once tried to save.

 

Fueled by twisted determination, the Angel shambled through the Underground with a trail of dust in their wake. The situation became so hopeless that eventually the Judge had to intervene. The Judge battled the Angel, and convinced the Angel to travel back in time and fix what they had caused.

 

Embarrassed and ashamed, the Angel brought their friends to the surface, letting them live in peace. The humans were deeply fearful of the monsters. Tensions flared, until a hate group attacked a monster. The monster retaliated in self defense, killing a single human. Enraged, the humans vowed to eradicate every monster alive. The monsters tried to pacify the humans but failed, and were drawn into a second interspecies war.

 

Many years later…


	2. Chapter 1

Battle is grimy. Battle is dusty and dirty, improvised chaos, skirmishes and ambushes. Battle is the cries of the wounded intermingling with pleas for one drop of water, for life giving mercy, for swift death.

 

Muffet loved every second of it.

 

Unfortunately, instead of partaking in the glorious battle raging just outside, Muffet was stuck in a drafty, grimy tower with possibly the most annoying child in the whole wide universe.

 

“Muffet, could you teach me how to bake someday?” Frisk asks innocently, as if to emphasize Muffet’s point. Frack, she was busy! Intelligence is much harder than most monsters give credit for. Muffet has to manage every little detail impeccably, from the immediate battle to backup plans for an atomic bomb. No, Muffet could not send assistance to B-2, as C-1 was in more immediate need of backup. Yes, she’ll direct the medical team to D-9. What? F-6 wants extra rations? Shut up, the provisions team doesn’t have that type of food to spare! Muffet looks down from relaying messages to her spiders to see that Frisk was clinging like a limpet onto her shorts, pleading.

 

“Will you? Will you?”

 

“Yes, Frisk,” Muffet answers maternally, “But not now, okay? I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

 

“Yay! You’re the best!” Frisk shouts in delight, clapping her hands. Muffet smiles warmly despite herself. She has been stuck with taking care of Frisk after her good friend Toriel asked her to. What monster could say no to Toriel? Toriel was stupendously busy. She was the public face of the Monster Revolution, as Asgore was calling it. Yeesh. Muffet would not want that job. Whenever Muffet tries to speak in public, her mind just freezes. Spy Tower was four stories tall, and boy was it drafty. Muffet didn’t even know how she stood it. Spy Tower, yet another amazing name by Asgore. It was where, shockingly, the spies took care of their business.

 

“Muffet? I’m bored,” Frisk complains, banging her head against the wall of the small stone tower.

 

“Why don’t you turn on the radio and dance a bit, dearie? You like that,” Muffet suggests as she scribbles out a note to Asgore, being careful to encode the cipher correctly. She rolls the note into a tiny scroll case, strapping it delicately onto a waiting spider. Muffet uses the Spider Cipher, a code of her own invention. She’s quite proud of it. No one has ever broken the Spider Cipher. Frisk’s face brightens, and she skitters over to the radio in the corner. The radio is functional, but it’s basically from the stone age. Frisk stands up on her tippy-toes, and [turns on](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dqHnAK8AxrA) a station Muffet has never heard before. They then proceed to stand in a corner and flail their arms weirdly, like some bizarre octopus. Muffet assumes this is what Frisk thinks dancing is.

 

“Muffet, will you dance with me?” Frisk invites, smiling innocently. Well… Muffet supposes she could spare a moment.

 

“Of course, dearie! Ahuhuhuhuhu!” Muffet giggles, holding a hand up to her lips. She skips over towards Frisk, holding two of her hands out. Frisk laughs and takes both, spinning Muffet around in harrowing circles.

 

“Dearie, stop spinning so fast! I’m getting dizzy!” Muffet admonishes playfully. Frisk is only egged on by her plea, spinning faster and faster until the world is a blur.

 

“Hunter, watch where you’re going, you idiot! There’s traps everywhere!”

A muffled voice calls from underneath Frisk and Muffet’s feet. Both freeze. Muffet switches instantly from a carefree mother into the hardened warrior.

 

“Quick, climb into the cabinet! No matter what, stay quiet and hidden, okay?” Muffet whispers, pushing Frisk towards the large wooden cabinet shoved behind her desk. Frisk nods, climbing into the cabinet and shutting the door behind themself with practiced ease.

 

“We’re almost at the staircase, boss!”

The muffled voices call out gruffly, a little bit closer this time. Muffet pulls sextuplet daggers from her belt, clenching them tightly in her sweaty hands. It looked like she would be able to fight a little after all. Thank goodness. Sending messages was so boring.

 

“Hunter! Shut up! Do you want to broadcast our location to every freak in the entire universe?”

The first man tries to whisper none too subtly. It sounded like there was about ten or fifteen of them, if Muffet was correct. The trapdoor bangs open, and fifteen disheveled soldiers flood into the room. About half of them are dripping with glowing water, while some of them had numerous scratches lining their faces. One was all tangled up in purple spiderwebs. She had come up with that trap. They all circled warily around her, pikes outstretched in a spiky circle, like thorns. Humans had learned quickly since the beginning of the war that guns and explosives were ineffective against monsters. There wasn’t enough killing intent in them to inflict real damage.

 

“You are the chief intelligence officer?”

A soldier in a fancier outfit than the other soldiers asks. His shoulders are dripping with gold tassels and water. He was practically oozing arrogance. Geez, what a snob.

 

“No, I’m the baker. Why else would I be in Spy Tower?” Muffet jabbed back. Asgore has a terrible naming sense, as ever. Spy Tower. Ha.

 

“Touché. Surrender and throw yourself under the mercy of King Magnanimous the second, long may he live,”

The snobby guard recites. Muffet grins wider, and spins her daggers in a showy display of I’ll-never-surrender-you-huge-butthole. She growls ferally.

 

“Make me.”

 

The guards all charge at Muffet like lumbering wombats, gleaming pikes leveled forward. Muffet leaps up, a gazelle, landing on the other side of the guards. Flash! A clean swipe of her dagger, and a guard falls down with a shriek. 14/15 guards remaining. A quick dodge of a pike, a backflip, and another guard falls down. 13/15 to go. Muffet twirls in a deadly dance of death of death, cutting down twelve more soldiers in graceful pirouettes and leaps. Some trip over purple webs, and some collapse after being bitten by a deadly spider. What weaklings.

 

“What’s wrong?” Muffet taunts, twirling her daggers, “Not fast enough to catch me? Ahuhuhuhuhuhu!” Fourteen soldiers down, one to go…?!

 

“Muffet?” Frisk cries from behind Muffet. She turns around slowly to face Frisk. The leader of the soldiers has a gleaming knife to their neck. He has a warped grin on his face, eyes alight with a savage fury. Muffet cries out in surprise and fear, pure electric terror racing through her body like wildfire. She cries out.

 

“Frisk!"

 

“Frisk, huh? Well, don’t worry, Frisk. It’s going to be okay,”

The deranged soldier coos into Frisk’s ear. It makes Muffet want to be sick. He’s the one holding the knife to Frisk’s neck!

 

***Check**

_HP: 36_

_ATK: 18_

_DEF: 11_

_LV: 5_

_*Is it malignance or loyalty?_

 

“It’s not okay! Let me go!” Frisk screeches at the ear shattering volume only small children can achieve. The nicely dressed soldier winces. He presses his knife just a tiny bit more into Frisk’s neck, causing them to stop screaming. Instead they whimper, a single bead of blood rolling down to stain their shirt.

 

“If you know what’s good for little Frisk here, you’ll drop your weapons and surrender peacefully.”

The man addresses Muffet now, his gaze darkening. Muffet watches, petrified. She has seen these negotiations happen before, on The Day It All Fell Down. Asgore’s naming, again. The moment Muffet surrenders, Frisk is as good as dust.

 

“What about Frisk?” Muffet asks.

 

“Their life will be spared, as long as you cooperate in the cracking of the Spider Cipher,”

The lunatic soldier assures with a sneer. The Spider Cipher? Muffet was quite proud of that particular code. It required all six of her hands to encrypt or decrypt a message, but it had never been cracked. Ever. However, Frisk’s life is worth more than a thousand unbreakable ciphers.

 

“Very well. I surrender,” Muffet breathes. All six of her daggers clatter to the floor.

 

“This was inevitable. Monsterkind shall fall,”

The soldier recites formally, grimly. He saunters forward, keeping an unnecessarily tight grip on Frisk. Frisk squirms a bit. Tears streak down their face, cutting a path through a smatter of blood on their cheek. The soldier slowly bends down, carefully picking up all six daggers. Muffet slowly reaches into her rucksack, and the soldier tenses up. She slowly pulls out a muffin, holding it up in the dim light like it was a priceless gem.

 

“A muffin? I thought you were pulling out some weapon of mass destruction!”

The soldier laughs mockingly. He starts laughing so hard he cries, and Frisk squirms as the knife grows shaky. Muffet throws the muffin onto the floor besides him, and he chuckles some more.

 

“Eat your words, or your words will eat you! Ahuhuhuhuhuhu!” Muffet laughs with a predatory grin. Her eyes narrow. This person hurt Frisk. Muffet will enjoy watching him die. The soldier’s eyes grow wide as the muffin begins expands. It grows larger and larger until it nearly fills the whole room. The snobby soldier shakes in his boots, gripping Frisk tighter as the muffin grows. An eye appears on the muffin. Two eyes. Three, four, five, six eyes grow on the monstrous muffin. Then a giant gaping mouth grows open with a pair of razor sharp fangs, pushing the stuck up soldier over the edge of petrification into action.

 

“Aaaaaaaaah!”

He screams, dropping Frisk in a mad dash for the tower door.

 

“Oh no you don’t, sucker!” Muffet calls after him. She throws her teapot at the fleeing soldier. Her aim is true, and it burst upon impact, spurting a sticky purple web and trapping the helpless soldier inside. He squirms and cries out as the hulking muffin beast approaches.

 

“Mercy, p-please, I’ll g-give you a-anything!” 

 

“Anything?”

 

“Yes! Gold, favors, you name it!”

The soldier pleads. He is struggling hopelessly against Muffet’s bonds, but to no avail. Muffet decides that she likes seeing him like this, helpless and pleading. He attacked Frisk. He deserves this.

 

“You lost your life privileges when you attacked Frisk,” Muffet growls, tensing up in preparation. She knows the moment she gives the signal, her muffin beast will devour the soldier in one fell swoop. The muffin beast bares its teeth, dragging itself forward on spindly legs towards its prey. The soldier jerks and cries in the embrace of the purple web as the beast pulls closer and closer, preparing to devour him. And yet, this strange ritual is interrupted by a sharp cry.

 

“Stop!” Frisk calls, pulling themself off the floor, “Let him go!”

 

“Frisk, he’s not a good person,” Muffet sighed, exasperated. Frisk was pacifist almost to a fault. Even when Frisk had fought Muffet in the underground, they had just dodged, and occasionally stopped to cook some ramen noodles. Did the kid understand that this soldier was just holding them hostage?

 

“I don’t care!” Frisk cries. Muffet facepalms with all six hands.

 

“Fine, fine!” Muffet gestures, releasing the web. The soldier looks around hesitantly, as if wondering whether he was actually free or not.

 

“What are you standing around for? Go!” Muffet prompts, and the thoroughly defeated soldier scurries out of the tower, nearly slipping on the layer of blood coating the floor. Muffet runs over to Frisk, who is sprawled on the ground, shaking.

 

“Dearie! Are you okay?” Muffet gasps, helping Frisk up to their feet.

 

“I’msosorryhewastryingtoattackyouandIdidn’tthinkI’msosorrythisismyfault” Frisk mumbles, burying their face in Muffet’s skirt. Their gaze travels over the tower, with its coppery smell of blood. The fourteen fallen soldiers are splayed in unnatural positions, all fallen down.

 

“Dearie, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry this had to happen,” Muffet apologizes, pulling Frisk into a tight embrace. She is trying to keep her “grown up” face on, trying to pretend that there isn’t fourteen bodies dead by her hand, trying to forget that Frisk nearly dusted because she wasn’t careful enough. Both their clothes are stained with a crimson color that is rapidly fading to brown, and neither of them have showered in weeks, due to limited water rations. They’re filthy, underfed, and battle-hardened, but neither of them care.

 

“...Can I call you mom number two?” Frisk asks after a long silence, giving a small, warm smile.

 

“Sure, dearie,” Muffet says, turning reaching out with one of her arms to turn the radio off. She was stuck in a cramped little tower with possibly the most annoying child in the whole wide universe.

 

Muffet wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I want to hear from you guys. What do you want to happen next? Who do you ship? I won't be writing smut, but I'd like to put Muffet in a relationship with someone. ;) Beware of skittle barfing sharks!


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